


Wait, Dating!?

by Iron_Eirlyssa (Eirlyssa)



Series: Eirlyssa's 2018 Bingo Fills [7]
Category: Black Panther (2018), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Didn't Know They Were Dating, M/M, Shuri will solve that for them, Sweet T'Challa (Marvel), Tony Stark Bingo 2018, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-09
Updated: 2018-11-09
Packaged: 2019-08-21 06:59:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16571855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eirlyssa/pseuds/Iron_Eirlyssa
Summary: They first met in The Hague.Tony was there for the investigation into Ultron. T’Challa was there with his father, who was working on a framework for superhero oversight.And then, they kept meeting up.





	Wait, Dating!?

**Author's Note:**

> My fill for the Tony Stark Bingo square S5: Didn't Know They Were Dating.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!!!

They first met in The Hague.

Tony was there for the investigation into Ultron. T’Challa was there with his father, who was working on a framework for superhero oversight.

It was one of the worst times in Tony’s life - and, admittedly, it wasn’t too happy a life in general already. Something had gone wrong, though he still couldn’t figure out how, and it had cost so many lives, so much property. And the whole world was screaming it was his fault.

Of course, Tony Stark never let anything keep him down. He sent as much aid as he could, pumped millions of his own money into trying to help out the many people that had suffered from his mistake. As Iron Man, he went around to try and help out with restoration. As Tony Stark, he tried his best to invent more ways to make the world a better place.

With the lack of Avengers in his life ( _and was that a good thing, or did the pain make it a bad one?_ ) there was a bit more free time. Some of it was taken up by the UN and their investigation into what had happened, but that also put him closer to Sokovia than if he were in the US, so it was relatively easier to fly over. The penthouse he’d rented was littered with tablets when he wasn’t out as Iron Man or at the UN, so he could still get work done for Stark Industries.

In some ways, it helped distract him from the guilt ( _confusion?_ ), but most of it was also a reminder of what had gone wrong. And things at the UN only took longer because there was no official guideline for any of it. Theoretically, Tony could have told them ‘no thank you’ and walked off. It would have left the United States responsible, and everyone knew chances were they wouldn’t do much more than a formal reprimand, perhaps a symbolic fine. But he’d never wanted to be able to walk away from mistakes that hurt others, killed others, just because of who he was.

After yet another day of long talks, where Tony presented what he could to the UN panel and some experts they had gathered, T’Challa approached him.

He wasn’t the first to do so - the Sokovian representative had told him he would _pay_ for what he had done the first day in The Hague - but none of the others had been kind to him. Considering that expectation, he took a deep breath before turning to the Wakandan prince and smiling his press smile.

“Dr. Stark,” he was greeted, and that was the first surprise. Not that he let it show, of course.

Instead, he nodded. “Your Highness. To what do I owe the pleasure?” There was still enough daylight left that he could head over to Sokovia and help with some of the relief efforts, but only if he left within the next ten minutes or so. Otherwise he might as well lock himself up in the rented penthouse and work on SI-related issues instead.

“I merely wished to express my admiration for what you are doing.” Little though he wanted to admit it, Tony was stunned into silence. That was about the last thing he’d have ever expected to hear at the moment, considering everything that was going on, and in his astonishment he let the silence drag on for a little too long to appear unaffected. The prince smiled ever so slightly, as if to console. “Unexpected and unintended as it was, you are standing up for your mistake instead of walking away from it. I thought you should know not everyone is against you, even if it might seem that way.”

The Wakandan delegation had asked some questions as well when it came to the inquiry - intelligent questions that dove deeper into the interface and Ultron’s original programming - and had given the impression that they were not very pleased with him, but there had been no outright hostility like some of the other delegates had shown.

Unsure of how to respond exactly, Tony tried to shrug it off. “Considering everything that’s happened, I can’t really blame anyone for it. Messing things up might be a specialty of mine, but this is pretty much the worst it’s ever been.”

An unidentifiable look crossed the prince’s face, too quick to analyze properly. “I will not deny mistakes have been made, but they were not solely yours. As it were, today has made it abundantly clear that it was the alien artefact at fault, enabled by the actions of multiple others. You were only a single influence, and yet you shoulder all of the blame.” He didn’t need to say it out loud to make it clear that he disagreed with that.

It was difficult for Tony to agree, though, when he was confronted with the evidence otherwise every day. The Avengers didn’t want to talk to him anymore, not really. Most of the people around here looked at him with disdain in their eyes. It was almost worse in Sokovia, where people were shocked to see him, and hatred and grief and gratitude were all present, sometimes at the same time. Even Pepper had turned out to be unable to deal with everything, pulling away ever so slowly until he spoke more with her assistant than with her before finally admitting she couldn’t do it.

He’d covered the mirror in his penthouse, using a small one when working on his personal grooming, for fear that he would destroy it upon looking at his own face.

“Again, I don’t blame them.” It was odd to him - here was someone telling him he might not have been the only one responsible, and yet this conversation somehow made him more uncomfortable than all of the people telling him what a terrible person he was. Tony wondered what that said about him.

The prince seemed to notice as much, relaxing his stance. “The investigation will turn out the truth, whatever shape it might take. I merely wished to let you know, and wish you strength for the coming weeks.” With that and a smile, he walked off to join his father once again. The king looked at Tony without much emotion, but he did nod at him before the entire delegation walked out the door.

Overall, the entire interaction had left him rather stunned, and he was still thinking about it when he returned from Sokovia hours later.

They ran into one another more often after that. Although the investigation was coming to an end, the superhero accords were taking shape. It was after the release of the preliminary report, where it appeared like the committee reluctantly agreed that the blame lay with the scepter instead of with Tony (or any of the others involved), that T’Challa approached him again.

“You have probably heard of the superhero regulations currently in the works?” he asked after greeting Tony, who nodded. “I was wondering if you would be available to discuss some things with you regarding the possibilities for investigations into situations that go wrong, considering your recent experiences.”

“That depends,” Tony said, grimacing at his watch. “I was planning on grabbing a quick meal before I have an online meeting for SI, and tomorrow I’ll probably be in Sokovia all day.”

T’Challa shrugged smoothly. “If you would not mind the company, I could join you for your dinner?”

The smile came almost by itself, feeling strange on his face. He tried his best not to think about how long it had been since he’d smiled for real. “Not a problem at all, considering that makes everything a lot easier. I will insist on you calling me Tony though, none of that Dr. Stark nonsense.”

“Please, address me as T’Challa then.”

It was the first time they had dinner together, but certainly not the last. A lot of their talks were about the Accords slowly taking shape - ways to cover all possible eventualities, as well as making sure they would be palatable for both sides of the equation. Tony was happy to find that T’Challa had a good head on his shoulders, and their conversations soon branched out into various technological advancements.

While it had started in The Hague, they tended to meet up for discussions every time there was an important UN meeting. T’Challa and his father were required in other locations, and Tony himself had SI back in the US, though he flew over often enough to help out in Sokovia as well, so their meetings got somewhat less frequent, but no less useful for that fact. It was nice to have someone bounce ideas and thoughts off, especially if they were smart enough to look for all the weak points and do their best to come up with alternative solutions. That happened not only with the Accords, but also when it came to the slow integration of Wakanda with the rest of the world, issues Tony ran into with SI and an amazing variety of scientific subjects. To his astonishment, he found that he enjoyed verbally sparring with T’Challa.

Of course, it was nearly impossible to have meeting so often without ever actually running into T’Challa’s father. It was something Tony had been worrying about for a while, considering people disliking him was more of a rule than an exception.

Except it turned out the Wakandan king was far more gracious than Tony had ever dared to expect.

“My son tells me you have been meeting up to discuss the Accords?” Everyone had retreated to have lunch, and T’Challa had told Tony of his father’s request that he share the meal with them. He’d had two glasses of water and zero bites of his sandwich so far.

“And plenty of other subjects, to be honest,” he admitted. Part of him wanted to be sarcastic as usual, holding people off. Another part had honestly been trampled into the ground, starting with his kidnapping years ago and ending with Ultron and its consequences, and just wants someone to like him without any ulterior motives or conditions. In the back of his mind, he’d wondered if he’s ever been as comfortable falling into a friendship as he has been with T’Challa. He didn’t want to lose that. “But the Accords are a good part of it, especially considering their importance.”

“Indeed.” The king’s smile was almost approving, and wasn’t that just something Tony had no idea what to do with? “From what I hear, you make many good points. T’Challa has often returned from your meetings with a multitude of ideas to be included and discussed. It is most informative.”

Oh hell, he had _no_ idea what to do with someone approving of him. “Glad to be able to be of assistance?” Tony hid his grimace when it came out as more of a question than a statement. Much like his son, however, the king appeared to notice his discomfort despite how much he tried to hide it. Much like his son, something crossed his eyes that Tony couldn’t identify before it disappeared again.

Also much like his son, rather than point out Tony’s discomfort, he altered his stance to be decidedly non-threatening (and Tony wasn’t some wild animal to be soothed, damn it, except that it worked) and altered the subject. “There are currently talks about the possibility of registering and tracking all superheroes, to be sure nothing can happen. Have you heard yet?”

He had, and he wasn’t happy with it. As he told the king so, he noticed how much the two of them were alike. It made it easier to relax around T’Chaka. By the time lunch ended, he was genuinely smiling and had actually finished his entire plate.

After that, though meetings between just Tony and T’Challa were still the most common, T’Chaka sometimes joined them as well. It was during one of those meetings that the King extended an invitation for Tony to come visit Wakanda - something he didn’t think had ever happened before. Once he had gotten his brain to cooperate once again, however, he told the both of them he would be beyond honored to be allowed to come visit.

It was only after, when he was on his own, that the nerves really struck. Sure, T’Challa was one of the nicest people he had ever met, and even T’Chaka seemed to like him. But they were the royal family of an entire country that depended on them. Tony was, well… Tony. He messed things up, whether he wanted to or not. It was quite honestly a miracle that hadn’t happened with the two of them yet, and there was no doubt his luck probably wouldn’t hold. Something about him just seemed to invite destruction. The last thing he wanted (well, no… That implied it was something he wanted, and it was something he _didn’t_ want) was to do anything to hurt T’Challa and his father.

Of course, then Lagos happened. Tony had been in Sokovia at the time, trying to help out in some little ways now that the bigger work had been done, and one of the people manning the cranes had been the one to call everyone’s attention to the news showing the destroyed building.

Fortunately, he was able to push the outrage in the direction of the Accords, rather than having it aimed at Steve and Wanda. Work on the Accords was going well, and the increased interest in them would hopefully get them pushed through quicker, and this way the others wouldn’t be prosecuted to the maximum extent.

Meetings were scarce at that time, T’Chaka spending even more time pushing for the Accords and T’Challa right there with him. The amount of talking both of them did with diplomats from several different countries made it so there was little to no spare time in their schedule. Tony did make sure to send his sincere condolences for the loss of their country’s citizens, along with a tasteful (if perhaps a bit big, considering the _Look_ Pepper sent him) arrangement of flowers, and they sent him a ‘thank you’ message in return.

He found that he missed seeing T’Challa in that time, missed how nice it was to talk to someone who _understood_ , if in a different way. One quick message to ask how things were going turned into a back-and-forth that wasn’t as quick as talking in person, but still helped a lot with all of the stress piling on for the both of them.

Finally, the Accords were ready enough to be presented to the world, as well as the superheroes that inhabited it. Tony was rather proud of how they had turned out, even though they still needed some fine-tuning, and from what he heard of T’Challa, he and his father were rather satisfied with them as well. Of course, he did understand that T’Challa was not a fan of diplomacy, and he couldn’t help but smile when the other noted that things could have been done so much faster if it had only been a few people working on it, rather than requiring so many representatives and diplomats. It was true, but it also demonstrated how much he still had to learn when it came to manoeuvring in the world at large.

The meeting with the Avengers on the Accords didn’t go at all how he expected it to, however. He’d been astonished when it had been _Thaddeus Ross_ , of all people, introducing them to the others. Sure, as Secretary of Defense, he’d been involved somewhat, but he wasn’t part of the UN.

Listening to the others discuss the Accords, he could feel a headache growing. So much effort had been put into it, and only a few of them even appeared willing to read more than the short summary attached by Ross. Hours upon hours of work, not just by him but also by T’Challa, and his father, and so many others. And they spoke as though it was a leash, as though T’Chaka would allow his son to be _leashed_ like some rabid animal, as though Tony was the devil selling them out to… what, even? Evil government agents that would use them as a murder squad.

“The safest hands are still our own,” Rogers told them, and Tony wanted to cry. All of these hours, all of this effort, and they would shrug it off because they didn’t want anyone to supervise them?

When, not even a minute later, he left the room upon receiving a text, Tony dropped his head into his hands.

He almost cried when he found out that Peggy had died. They hadn’t been as close after Howard died, but he’d known her growing up, and she’d taken care of him in her own way. He still missed that, sometimes, even if he did understand that her friendship had been with Howard mainly. She’d been someone to look up to, someone who had smiled at him and told him that she was proud of him, and that had been rare.

He truly cried when he received the flowers - rare, he couldn’t name them, and quite possibly they didn’t exist outside of Wakanda anyway. T’Challa gave him his condolences, told him he was sorry for his loss, and wished him strength in the coming times. T’Chaka had even added a few lines, sending his condolences and his hopes that memories of her and the presence of those who cared about him would help him through this trying time. It was more supportive than anyone other than Rhodey was, and knowing that they actually _cared_ in some way was enough to make him break down. Rhodey held him as he sobbed and laughed when Tony told him about the one time Peggy had come by the mansion to see Howard, only to get caught up in reenacting one of Captain America’s missions with Tony instead. By the end of the evening, he was exhausted but feeling a little better than he had before.

The cathedral was big enough that he managed to remain undetected. The last thing Peggy’s funeral needed was to have everyone distracted by Tony’s presence, though his lips tightened just a bit seeing Steve be one of her pallbearers. Even in the back, he could clearly see the flashes of cameras.

After the funeral was done, he left a large bouquet of red gladiolus flowers on Peggy’s grave. “Thank you,” Deborah spoke up, eyes red-rimmed and a sad smile on her face. “For being here, and for being subtle about it. We all appreciate it.”

Tony nodded, unable to muster up a true smile and not wanting to lie to her. “You deserve to mourn her in peace, rather than having a media circus made of it.” They stood in silence for a little bit. He could remember Debbie babysitting him a few times, when there hadn’t been any servants available and she wanted some extra cash. “Did you ever manage to get that walkman you were saving up for?”

Debbie chuckled, sounding a bit congested. “I did, actually. And once I had it, I used it maybe five times and then it gathered up dust in a drawer,” she confided. “I ended up saving for a car after.”

They both laughed then, before falling silent again and looking at Peggy’s grave.

“Send Michael my condolences as well, will you?” Tony asked her. He had seen her brother today, but he wasn’t out here, not healthy enough to spend too much time out of bed. Having kept an eye on them, Tony knew he was currently undergoing chemotherapy. “And good luck on his treatments.”

“Thank you for being here, Tony. And for paying for them, as well.”

He shrugged, unable to look at her. They might not have been in touch all that much, but they were Peggy’s family, and he had more than enough money to help them out a bit. “It’s nothing, really.”

“It’s something to us.” Then she was hugging him, and after a moment of being utterly unsure what to do, he gently hugged her back.

Not an hour later, he was on the jet with Natasha, heading over to Vienna. They didn’t talk all that much, and Tony wondered if any of the others had changed their minds yet. She had been the one talking to the Avengers about the Accords, considering he’d pulled back after Ultron, and he hadn’t heard a lot. Rhodey had told him that he had signed, though. Hopefully, Vision had as well, even with his affection for Maximoff, who had seemed less willing to sign.

Most likely, he’d hear about it at the meeting.

One saving grace of the entire thing was that T’Challa was there, and he smiled at Tony the moment he saw him. “I am glad you could make it, after all,” he greeted the inventor.

“Wouldn’t have missed it,” Tony replied, smiling tiredly. “After all of the work we put in, I want to be here to see it happen.”

“A first step.” T’Challa clasped his shoulder. “Are you sure you are alright to be here, though? You look exhausted.”

What with spending time flying all across the world to try and keep up with SI, help out in Sokovia still, put out political fires for the Avengers despite having left them and inventing and reworking the gear that they used, he’d never had all that much extra time. Peggy’s death was simply another drop in the already overflowing bucket. “That’s never stopped me,” he joked, trying to make light of things. No one had ever seemed to care all that much, either, except when it inconvenienced them.

“Perhaps it should,” his friend mused. “I do wish you would take better care of yourself.”

Tony simply shrugged, unsure how to respond to that statement. He did what he could, but there was too much to do that was more important than rest and food. Now that there wasn’t really anyone around anymore to try to enforce it, what with Pepper having left him and JARVIS being… gone, it was more and more difficult to remind himself to do those small tasks.

With a final frown in his direction, T’Challa allowed himself to be distracted by another diplomat trying to speak to him. Tony could feel his friend’s eyes return to look at him a few more times, but he did his best to ignore them.

Instead, he focused on the room around them. He spotted T’Chaka talking to a few other diplomats, as well as a smiling Natasha. A few other representatives he knew were also around, as were news crews. He tried to stay back, unnoticed, considering the last thing the Accords needed were the bad publicity of being associated with Tony Stark. They were a _good_ thing, but the debacle with the other Avengers had made it clear that Tony was not someone they trusted to have their best interest at heart. He wasn’t sure the world would think he did, either.

Sticking to the back of the room, behind even the reporters, no one really seemed to notice him. It left him able to observe as T’Chaka took the stage for his speech. Tony smiled. From what he had seen of him so far, T’Challa’s father was absolutely amazing at making people listen to him, and at saying meaningful, good things at the same time. It wasn’t two traits that people often combined.

As T’Chaka spoke about Ultron, Tony couldn’t help but cringe. His name, nor Ultron’s, was mentioned, but even with the whole investigation saying he was not at fault, he still felt guilty for what had happened.

Something felt off.

Wandering the edges of the room, Tony looked carefully around him. Everyone seemed absorbed in T’Chaka’s speech, none of them making an odd move. Still, something was wrong, and Tony had learned to listen to his instincts in this.

Natasha had noticed him moving and raised an eyebrow in question. They might not be on the same team anymore, but the two of them were still capable of communicating without words, both experienced enough at it to catch the slightest hint. So he frowned, but lifted one shoulder just a bit, indicating something felt wrong but he wasn’t yet sure what, and noticed her starting to look around as well.

It was when he reached the window, on the other side of T’Challa, when he realized what was wrong. Something was going on in the street.

From the corner of his eye, he could see T’Challa noticing as well, but he was already responding, activating the watch gauntlet. It wasn’t the suit, but it was something, and he’d been working carefully to keep as much functionality as possible with just the gauntlet.

Down on the street, people were starting to run away from a van. A van parked suspiciously close to the building they were currently in.

Distantly, he could hear T’Challa screaming for everyone to get down. A brief flick of his fingers activated the concussive blast that could hopefully function as enough of a shield to keep everyone alive, and he felt the recoil in his shoulder as the gauntlet fired. Then, the building trembled and his vision was filled with glass and fire and rubble, and he only had enough time to hope that it had been enough before a piece hit his skull and his vision blacked out.

When he opened his eyes again, the situation had hardly improved. He was aching, lying down, but at least he was alive. Steeling himself, he started looking around to see how everyone else was.

Predictably, the room was a mess. The exploding glass and the impact of the explosive, though lessened, had resulted in the room being filled with the dust of falling rubble. Smoke was rolling in from outside as well, impairing vision even more. But people did seem to be moving - some of them had been hit by rubble, but so far he couldn’t see anyone who had more than superficial wounds.

Then he did what he feared most - he looked to his side, where T’Chaka had been standing and, past him, T’Challa.

The king was on the floor, not moving. T’Challa he could see a little further away, trying to shake off the effects of the blast and looking frantically in the direction of his father but at least looking awake. Tony, being closer, managed to crawl his way over to the king first. With a shaking hand, he checked for a pulse. One breath, two, and he realized he could feel a heartbeat. T’Chaka wasn’t dead, at least not yet.

Through the dizziness, he did what he remembered from first aid classes, checking if he could still feel breathing. By the time he’d gently rolled T’Chaka into a recovery position, there was movement to his side. Looking over, he saw T’Challa, whose eyes were focused on his father.

Once he reached them, he checked both heartbeat and breathing again, relaxing only marginally when he found both of them.

“Baba?” he choked out, and Tony felt for him.

Knowing anything he did wouldn’t be much good for T’Challa at the moment - he didn’t even appear to notice the hand Tony put on his shoulder - he got up to look around the rest of the room, seeing if there was anyone he could help out.

He struggled to his feet, body aching all over. Most likely, he should be getting himself seen to as well once this was all over, which caused him to grimace. He hated medics, no matter how good of a job they were doing. Ever since he’d been young, he’d been taught not to let any weakness show, not to need anyone to help him out, and he’d never quite unlearned that.

As he moved through the room, he was helping people get out from under rubble, though so far everyone he had come across had been conscious and able to stand with some assistance.

It made sure he didn’t feel bad about sending the first medics he found in the direction of T’Challa and his father. Considering T’Chaka had been closest to the explosion, it wasn’t unlikely that he’d been hit by the worst of it, and he appeared to need immediate medical intervention still. Tony just hoped that he wouldn’t die, knowing how that felt and not wishing it on his worst enemy, let alone on someone who had become one of his best friends.

“Tony, are you alright?” came from his side. His ears were still ringing somewhat, but they’d stopped being bad enough that he wasn’t able to hear anything.

Carefully, he turned to face Natasha, inspecting her as well. “I’m fine, how are you?” She appeared to be fine, the advance warning probably having been more than enough for her to get to safety. There was some dust on her, but no obvious scratches or even bruises that he could see. “How is everyone else?”

She frowned, and for a second he worried that she’d be telling him people had ended up dying. “Are you sure? You don’t look alright, and you were very close to the explosion…”

There was no time to focus on how he was feeling, though. There never was. “I’m fine, looks worse than it is. What about everyone else?”

With a final frown, she focused on looking at the rest of the room, where paramedics and police officers were now helping out the people that hadn’t left yet. “So far, no fatalities in the room here, though I think some of the people outside didn’t make it. There’s a few injured, King T’Chaka appearing the worst of them so far, but all of them are being taken in to be kept an eye on, especially those with head wounds.” She looked at him once again, and he tried not to notice the feeling of the trickle of blood sliding down his face. He was fine. “No information yet on who planted the bomb or why, though everyone is looking.”

“Good. I’ll make sure to get FRIDAY on it as well, and see if there is anything Stark Industries can do to help out.”

He watched as T’Chaka was carried out on a stretcher, his son right beside him and not focusing on anything else. A careful look indicated that nothing appeared to be wrong with T’Challa himself, despite having been close to the explosion as well, which eased Tony’s mind a little. He wondered if he could tell the hospital to make sure to check his friend out as well.

Things seemed to go very quickly after that, and he was on the phone with FRIDAY more often than not trying to get everything arranged smoothly.

The UN had allowed him the use of one of their smaller offices for the purpose of privacy, which he was thankful for as he started feeling worse. He’d been exhausted before all of this, and despite being somewhat used to it ever since becoming Iron Man, situations like these still required a lot of energy to deal with.

A knock on the door had him taking a break from talking to FRIDAY, calling for whoever it was to come in. There had been a few officers, and some UN officials, that had wanted to talk to him to give or gain information.

This time, it was a paramedic with a glass of water and a small case at her side. “Mr. Stark, I’m Alice. I’ve been requested by Ms. Romanoff to come check you out.” Unfortunately, he knew that look in her eye. She would not be leaving until she had checked him out, one way or another. Not to mention the fact that he just _knew_ Natasha would come herself if he didn’t listen to this nice, non-murderous paramedic.

After convincing Alice that _no, he would not be going to the hospital_ , Tony allowed his thoughts to drift while she used tweezers to remove the glass splinters stuck in his skin. He wondered how T’Challa and his father were doing. The last he had heard was that T’Chaka was injured, but not lethally so. In fact, it appeared that his actions had made sure that no one in the room had been too badly injured, with the Wakandan king being the worst off. According to FRIDAY, a few of the cameras in the room had caught his actions on film, which of course meant it was now all over the news. On the bright side, at least there was some good press for him.

Tony had sent a few messages to T’Challa, asking how things were hoping and telling him he hoped everything would be alright, but he’d received no response yet. He wasn’t offended - his friend had better things to do right now than responding to his messages, and Tony understood that very well.

So he was all the more surprised when, suddenly, T’Challa was at the door of the office he was using.

“They told me you had been working from here,” was the only response he got when he asked why T’Challa was there. It answered absolutely nothing, but perhaps the other simply didn’t wish to say anything more with Alice in the room.

T’Challa looked on with a frown as splinter after splinter was removed, and Tony wondered if he was thinking about his father. He hadn’t heard any updates yet, but then again, he wasn’t family and would therefore not be updated a whole lot before the rest of the world was. Perhaps there was something T’Challa needed of him?

His restless shifting got him a glare from Alice, but it didn’t feel right, doing nothing when he _knew_ so much still needed to be done. “It’s fine, really,” he told her.

“I got the worst of them out, but I can’t be sure I got all of them, and I don’t have the things I need here to check. Are you sure you wouldn’t rather go to the hospital?” she tried again, though it was clear that she knew that wouldn’t be happening.

“I’ll get it checked out later,” he lied, and she looked at him suspiciously.

“Be sure to, Mr. Stark. And don’t forget to keep hydrated and eat something.” With that, she packed up her case and left with a final nod towards the both of them, closing the door behind her.

Now that they were alone, Tony quickly turned to T’Challa. “What’s up?” He hoped it would be something he was able to fix. “Is your father alright? Is there anything I can do for you?”

The faintest of smiles appeared on his friend’s face. “I am guessing getting yourself checked out in a hospital would be too much to ask?” Taken aback, Tony merely looked at him uncomprehendingly, and T’Challa sighed. “My father is alright - he woke up on the way to the hospital, and while he does have a few broken ribs, a concussion and multiple cuts from the glass splinters, he will be alright in time. My stepmother and sister are with him at the moment.”

A genuine smile spread across Tony’s face. “That’s great to hear,” he told T’Challa, the relief evident in his voice. Mentally, he made a note to send a ‘get well soon’ gift.

“I wish to thank you, Tony.” He tensed up. People didn’t thank him often, and he never quite knew how to react when they did. “I have seen the news, and they have video of what happened at the UN. Had you not reacted when you did, the way you did, my father’s fate would have been far worse. You have my gratitude.”

Tony knew his eyes were a little wider than they should have been - really, this was why he always had sunglasses, just in case. He did manage to control his body language enough not to raise his hands in a sort of defense, though, which was always his initial reaction when people thanked him. “Really, no need for that. I’m glad enough your father is alright, and no one got too badly hurt. No need to thank me.”

“Still, you saved his life. Is there anything we can do to repay you?”

Embarrassingly enough, the first answer that came to mind was ‘you already have’. Because T’Challa’s genuine friendship, and T’Chaka’s genuine kindness, was already so much more than he had ever expected to have. Instead, a stupidly awkward “let me get back at you on that” was all he managed, which wasn’t nearly the kind of deflection he would have liked.

Still, T’Challa had become amazing at picking up his tension and did not continue on with the subject. Instead, they discussed what was known so far - the type of bomb, the news van, and the lack of clear perpetrator.

By the time the news about the possible bomber came in, the both of them were far more relaxed and had spent some time arranging what needed to be arranged (though Tony did look forward to hearing about T’Chaka’s surprise at the gift he had managed to order). Looking at the footage of Bucky Barnes, Tony couldn’t help but frown. “Does this make sense to you?” he asked T’Challa.

Now even more at ease after a phone call about his father’s certain recovery, T’Challa sat beside him. His heat almost made Tony want to lean in, tired as he was.

“What is his purpose in bombing the UN?” the prince wondered out loud. “I thought he had separated from HYDRA?”

“From what I’ve heard of Steve and Natasha, he has,” Tony told him. “He hasn’t shown himself these past few years, and I haven’t heard of any suspicious deaths that are likely to be him, and I kept an eye out.”

T’Challa narrowed his eyes. “These cameras are not good enough quality to make out the detail I would like, but… did something happen to his face?”

“His face?” Tony would freely admit that T’Challa had the better eyes between the two of them.

“I cannot make it out on these cameras, but something is off. If you will allow me, I will call my sister. She is a genius, and would probably be able to figure this out.” Tony had, by now, heard enough about his sister to desperately want to meet her. She had not left Wakanda before now, however, and Tony was still hesitant on taking T’Chaka up on his invitation. Shuri had been one reason in favor of going despite his uncertainty, but not enough of one that it had fully convinced him. All the more to ruin, after all.

Listening in on the call, Tony tried to find different angles of Barnes, to see if he could find what T’Challa had meant. Although he wasn’t able to, it did mean he had some more footage to send to his sister, who eagerly got to work.

Soon, they had the results back - a high-quality photostatic veil that covered up the bomber’s true identity. It was good enough that they had no idea who it really was, but it was enough to convince the JCTC not to put out an arrest warrant quite yet. Instead, they agreed that it would probably be best to deal with this as silently as possible, considering the likelihood that this had been done to flush out Barnes in one way or another. No one wanted HYDRA to get their hands on him again, after all.

To Tony’s relief, the few news stations that had it held back on the footage with the promise of an exclusive once they had figured out who was behind the mask.

With the help of T’Challa and his sister, not to mention the full force of Wakanda behind them, Tony soon managed to find Barnes in Romania, where he had apparently been building somewhat of a life for himself. Considering finding him also included footage of him being there at the same time the bomb at the UN had been planted, it was enough for the JCTC to acknowledge no urgent need to get Barnes. They would like for him to face a trial for his crimes, of course, but Tony convinced them that it would be better to first let him be assessed and possibly treated psychologically.

The JCTC, in the meantime, continued looking for the true bomber. With the use of Barnes as voluntary bait, they managed to lure in Helmut Zemo, who seemed to have lost his family in Sokovia.

Tony flinched upon hearing that, still feeling guilty for the disaster, but T’Challa’s hand on his arm steadied him. “You made mistakes, but you were not responsible for the creation of Ultron. And even had you been, one man’s mistakes do not justify murder, especially of innocents.” His friend then turned to face him. “And you have no obligation to meet with him so he can curse at you for what he has lost, either.”

Zemo had asked to speak to him, to his surprise. He knew what to expect, though - the same things he had heard from so many others, blaming him for what had happened and what they had lost. And despite being exonerated, despite T’Challa supporting him, he couldn’t help but feel he deserved it.

“Would…” He hesitated, wondering if this would be too much to ask. “Could you join me, in meeting him?”

“If you wish me to,” T’Challa agreed easily, banishing his fears.

It turned out to be a good thing, too, considering what Zemo had to tell him was not a monologue blaming him for everything that had happened. Instead, he told Tony what he had discovered in the ruins of SHIELD, admitting that Tony submitting himself to an investigation and coming back to Sokovia to help had actually left him respecting the Iron Man pilot despite the part he had played in Ultron’s creation.

Shell-shocked, Tony walked out of the meeting. Mostly, he just wished to be somewhere private, perhaps to call the Iron Man armor and be away from anyone who could see him.

T’Challa, as though sensing as much, asked for an unused room and led him in there, checking for bugs before sitting down beside Tony and putting a steady arm around him. For a few minutes, all he could do was keep breathing as Zemo’s words kept rolling around in his head, repeating over and over and over again. Barnes had killed his parents. Steve and Natasha - no, _Rogers and Romanoff_ \- had known for years now, and had never said a thing.

“Why?” His voice sounded pathetic, crushed like he never wanted to sound again. Crushed the way it was every time someone he trusted betrayed him.

“I am so sorry, Tony.” Of course, there was no explanation. Not here. But there was care, and sympathy, and perhaps that was even better. And for the first time in a long while, Tony let himself be comforted by someone else as he cried about what he had lost, years ago and now.

They stayed there for what felt like a long time. It probably wasn’t the days it felt like, but it was more than a few hours, and Tony knew exactly how busy T’Challa was, especially with his father still on bed rest. “I shouldn’t keep you any longer,” he tried, but he could hear the roughness of his own voice and he knew ( ~~hoped~~ ) that his friend had heard it too, and wouldn’t be likely to leave him this way.

As it turned out, he was partially right. T’Challa wouldn’t leave him alone, but he did agree that they should remove themselves to go somewhere more comfortable. Tony had no idea where he’d gotten the handkerchief suddenly in his hand, but he wetted it a little from the small faucet in the corner and wiped the tear tracks off his face. “With your sunglasses on, no one will notice anything. Now come, let us head somewhere more comfortable.”

‘Somewhere more comfortable’ turned out to be the hotel T’Challa’s family had practically rented out, the Dora Milaje standing guard unobtrusively. “I thought it would help to be among others at this moment, who will not judge you for your grief.”

That was probably true, considering Tony was torn between raging at Rogers and Romanoff, drinking himself to an earlier death than he was already on track for and destroying anything he could get his hands on. Very probably true. So he let himself be led into a huge apartment that was guarded by more Dora Milaje.

The first thing he recognized was that it was a huge family apartment, with a joined living room and several doors leading off it. The second thing he noticed was T’Chaka, lying on the couch with his eyes closed. The third thing he noticed was two women, who he guessed would be T’Challa’s stepmother Ramonda and younger sister Shuri. “Everyone,” T’Challa called out softly, resulting in three sets of eyes suddenly being aimed at them. “I would like to introduce you to Tony Stark, who is my friend and also the reason father is in as good a shape as he is. He needs some time to deal with some news he has just received.”

Shuri was the first one up, only barely seeming able to keep from bouncing as she made her way over. “I’ve heard so much about you. It’s a pleasure to meet you!” she greeted him enthusiastically. Even with his mood being what it was, Tony couldn’t help but smile at her.

“Trust me, the feeling is entirely mutual. T’Challa has often talked about you, as has your father. I can’t wait to talk to you - I have a feeling there is a lot I could learn from you.”

She practically _glowed_ at that, and Tony was surprised she didn’t bounce straight out of the room with how bright her smile was. The queen was the next one to walk up to him, all grace and elegance and the same kind of energy her daughter had, though more muted. “I wish to thank you for what you have done for us. You have kept us from mourning my husband before his time, and for that, I owe you a debt.”

Already more on edge with his recent emotional outburst, Tony couldn’t prevent his hands from coming up defensively this time. “Please, you owe me nothing. After everything he and T’Challa have done for me, I’m the one who owes you all.”

“Would you please come over?” T’Chaka asked, and Tony couldn’t help but do so. As he walked over, he assessed the king and was relieved to find that he looked fairly healthy, if not as good as usual. There were a few small cuts, and Tony didn’t doubt his chest was bandaged beneath the button-up he was wearing, but nothing seemed too life-threatening. He smiled at that, relieved. At a gesture from T’Chaka, he sat down in the chair right beside him. “Truly, we have done nothing for you that you have not repaid us doubly for. But I can see it makes you uncomfortable, so I will not mention it further for now. Please be assured, though, that you owe us nothing at all.”

Tony could only really manage a shrug, unsure of how to answer and too raw to think of something glib.

It seemed figuring out his moods might be somewhat of a family thing, for Shuri jumped in at that moment. “T’Challa, have I told you about the way I figured out I might be able to improve the Panther Habit?”

After that, conversation flowed smoothly, Tony and Shuri absorbed in learning from each other and bouncing ideas off one another and the rest of the family smiling as they watched. Shuri was endlessly curious about the arc reactor and everything connected with it, while Tony was eager to know more about vibranium and its applications, admiring everything they had managed with it and coming up with new possibilities as they spoke.

Despite what had happened earlier, Tony had hardly ever felt happier. That was, until Shuri’s next comment. “Really brother, you should have introduced us far sooner. You’ve been dating how long, now?”

That brought Tony up short, and a brief glance at T’Challa ( _had he missed something?_ ) revealed that the other man was just as lost.

“Wait, dating?”

The rest of them seemed equally as clueless about their confusion, however. “Have you not been dating one another for a few months now, at least?”

“Not… that I knew?” Tony answered, though it came out as more of a question.

“We…” T’Challa trailed off, frowning. Having known him for a while, Tony could practically see him thinking. “I think this is something the two of us should discuss privately,” he finally came up with, and Tony couldn’t do anything except nod.

Dating?

Once they left to one of the side rooms - an office, fortunately, rather than a bedroom - they both sat down and looked at one another silently for a while.

“I had not realized they thought so,” T’Challa was the one to start the conversation eventually.

“Yeah,” Tony replied faintly. He wasn’t anywhere near sure what to think of all of this, mind rushing. He considered their meetings, the times they had met with T’Chaka there, the conversations they’d had even when not in the same city, and he guessed it made some sort of sense for them to think so. Still…

“I had not… considered, that what we were doing could be defined as dating.” Looking up at T’Challa, Tony tried to figure out what he thought about it. Did he regret it? Did he mind?

“So… now what?” he ended up asking eventually. This did put some of the past events in a different light. Except, thinking about it, Tony wasn’t sure _he_ minded. Then again, that mattered very little if T’Challa would prefer to keep his distance now, which was still a possibility.

T’Challa hummed, clearly still thinking. He didn’t look as though his thoughts distressed him, though, which was probably a good sign?

Then he seemed to come to a decision, straightening up and looking directly at Tony. “Now, I would like to ask you out. For an actual date.” The air seemed to leave his lungs. Of all the things that he had expected to happen, this had most definitely not been one of them.

“Why?” he couldn’t help but ask. “I mean, yes, of course, but why?”

“Because we have gotten to know one another over the past year,” T’Challa told him, eyes earnest. “And while I might not have realized how it appeared, I have learned enough about you that the thought of dating you… I found myself wishing they had been dates, and that you were interested in me romantically. So I wish to try again, this time knowing what is happening, to perhaps see if we could work out a relationship together that is different from the friendship we have enjoyed so far.”

“Are you really sure? Because I’m warning you, I am _not_ the best person to be in a relationship with,” Tony tried. He didn’t want their friendship to be ruined just because he couldn’t be a proper romantic partner, and he and Pepper were still trying to find their way back to the friendship they’d enjoyed before getting together.

It didn’t seem to deter T’Challa, however. “I am very sure. As long as we manage to keep communicating, I have faith that this will end well, either romantically or in a mutual friendship. The question is, are you willing to try with me? I am not perfect either, after all.”

No one was. Still, if there was anyone he might be able to work it out with, it was T’Challa. So, trying to keep from feeling as though he was jumping off a cliff, he managed a nod. “If you’re sure, then yes. Definitely. I’d be honored to take you out for a date.”

A grin spread across T’Challa’s face, and now that they were negotiating dating, Tony allowed himself to muse on how attractive that grin was. And on the fact that the warm feeling in his chest might be a little more than the friendship he had thought it was. “Oh no, I was the one who asked _you_ out on a date. That means that this time, at least, _I_ will be the one taking _you_ out.”

Tony couldn’t help but grin back. The future suddenly seemed a lot more exciting.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it! Feel free to come say hi on my [Tumblr page](https://eirlyssa.tumblr.com/).


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